


Dangerous Possession

by tinygiantsam



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Blindfolds, Blood, Chains, Drinking, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sex, Hand Jobs, Human Trafficking, Kidnapped Peter Parker, M/M, Mirror Sex, More Like Superheroes Trafficking, Non-Graphic Violence, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Public Blow Jobs, Safeword Use, Stabbing, only mentions of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-10 14:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15293715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinygiantsam/pseuds/tinygiantsam
Summary: Peter Parker had always been lucky. Too lucky. Until his luck ran out and he found himself alone in a cage, kidnapped.He just wasn't counting on Tony Stark rushing to save him... in a very unexpected way.He also wasn't counting on Tony being so damn possessive after it.





	1. Price Tag

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, people. Peter is as usual 18, so he's legal, thank you very much.  
> Also, a big thank you to @theMadStarker for helping me out with this. Lots of love for you.  
> Comments, kudos and constructive criticism is always welcomed.  
> Thank you!  
> Ps: Peter has hypersensitive smell. So like he can deccipher things from smelling them.

Peter knew deep down that he had been stupid, and reckless and not careful. But is not like he was expecting anything like this to ever happen. He never thought that he needed to protect himself as well, and it’s not because he thought of himself as invincible, but because he never knew that there were people out there who wanted to hurt him. Him of all people. Someone so insignificant, so nothing compared to the _actual_ avengers.

And now he was trapped.

Alone, gods know where. A cage, maybe? It felt like a cage.

He had gone out to protect the city from thieves, vandalism, maybe one or two criminals, and he’d strongly believed that he could do it with only the power of his webs.

Boy, had he been wrong.

As soon as he turned around, with the intension of going from one building to another, his eyes were surrounded by darkness and a weird smell hit his nose, making him feel strangely dizzy, very quickly. He didn’t remember falling asleep, and he didn’t know what was going on when he woke up.

Some kind of liquid was falling down his neck and he realized fast enough that it was blood. His own blood.

But, where was it coming from? He didn’t feel injured. Then again, he could heal very quickly.

Once again, darkness was everywhere, but it wasn’t because the room was dark, but because he was blindfolded, probably to keep him from knowing where he was or to scare him. Both were working.  

The suit was still on his body, but it felt wet, which meant he was either covered in blood or something else, because it wasn’t water. Water couldn’t be so dense. And yeah- it couldn’t have that specific smell.

He was kneeling on a cold floor, and his hands had been restrained with chains behind his back, and they were strong, and…

No success. He couldn’t set free from them. It was almost as if… they were made for him. Specially for him, because they fit perfectly. There was not a single gap between his wrists and the cold metal, which stopped him from using his webs.

And the room was awfully quiet, but Peter felt observed, being hyperaware of eyes on him. Best case-scenario, there were a lot of scientists looking at him, trying to decipher his powers and what to do with them or something (there had to be a reason why he was there) and not speaking because of the fear of Peter later recognizing their voices.

Worse case-scenario, they were all dead. Peter included.

Maybe, if his nostrils hadn’t been so overwhelmed by the liquid’s smell, he could have smelled something that gave him a hint of where he was.

And so, he sniffled once more. It was definitely blood. But- was it…

Oh.

He wrinkled his nose, disgusted.

It was pig’s blood. He was covered in _pig’s blood._

Peter had a sudden urge to shake it all off and run like a teenage girl afraid of a bug. But he couldn’t. He had to remain calm if he was gonna try to find out where he was and -most importantly- how he was going to get out of there.

His mouth wasn’t covered, which meant they were going to let him talk if he wanted to, because if they just would’ve wanted him to breathe, they would’ve let only his nose out. But it was dry, and it felt like he hadn’t had water in over a year. So, it was harder to get his voice out.

“Hello?” he muttered slowly, his voice coming out as a broken whisper. He sounded horrible. In fact, he hadn’t even recognized his own voice when he spoke. He only knew it was him because he had said what he was thinking.

Rambling, mentally. That's what he was doing.

It was stupid, anyway. He couldn’t say ‘anyone there?’ because it was ridiculous. He had been kidnapped and his kidnappers knew who he was, what his powers were, how to invalidate them (the pig’s blood and the weird perfect chains) and that Peter knew he had been kidnapped.

The only question was… why?

He didn’t have money to spare, so they were probably not gonna ask for it. Besides, if they wanted money, they could always recur to Tony, or someone who had it. A rescue, maybe?

There was no human (or supernatural) way to transfer powers from one person to another, like they did in ‘Heroes’, the TV show. So that couldn’t be it either.

They also clearly wanted him alive. Otherwise, he would have been dead by now, right?

Well, he wasn’t exactly staying in a five-stars resort. He was very chained up to a… to a something.

A little bit louder this time, Peter repeated the question, and surprisingly, he got an answer, not the one he was hoping for, though. An electric shock.

Tears were falling down his cheeks and staining his blindfold, some pain rushing through his veins, but it extinguished quickly. Thank god for supernatural healing.

“Sjef, vitalitetene hans var tilbake som normalt pa to sekunder. Det kan bli verdt mye penger”

“Jeg vet, takk”

Peter didn’t know what they were saying, but that was undoubtedly Norwegian. The thing was, he had no fucking idea of how to speak Norwegian. He only remembered the word ‘thank you’.

Spiderman heard a door open and someone step into the cage, or whatever it was, and start to wander around. The only thing Peter was trying to decipher, was how was he listening to the conversation when there was a door between them.

It had to be a glass door that wasn’t sound proof.

He realized soon enough that he was trying (unconsciously) to get a mental picture of where he was, so then he could use it in his favor, and scape somehow.

“Spiderman” said a very harsh, accented voice. “I’m so very sorry we have to meet this way, but I’m afraid… this is the one way”.

“Only” Peter corrected, being the smarty pants he had always been. Couldn’t help it. Not even when he was at the complete and utterly mercy of his captors.

He heard some laughter, and then someone hit him in the face. Wow, okay. It stung, but he had gotten worse. He had kind of earned it, though, he had just corrected his foreign kidnapper.

“Don’t do that, hero boy” the man said, lower this time, and with that he took Peter by the neck and started to choke him slightly. “I absolutely don’t want to hurt you, because it will look not good for buyer, so don’t make me. Deal?”.

“D-Deal” the boy whispered. The man let his neck go and Peter breathed quickly, desperately trying to get some air and calm himself down from the already noticeable panic attack he was having.

But he had heard something.

Something weird.

‘The buyer?’.

 

* * *

 

“We don’t know if anything actually happened” spoke Steve, voice sounding calming. But they sure as hell weren’t calming Tony.

“Already called his aunt, she doesn’t know where he is, almost fuck up when she asked why wasn’t he with me, considering he had gotten out to come here, and besides, he’s never late. Jarvis, dear, is Peter Parker ever late?”

“Not to my knowledge, sir”.

“Told ya” Tony muttered, his hands going up in the air.

“Maybe he just forgot. Stark, you can’t make a big deal out of everything” continued Steve. He was the only one talking, because nobody else knew what to say.

If Tony was worried, then there was no way of changing his mind. He was gonna found out where Peter was even if it costed him the last penny he had. Even if it meant finding out Peter had really forgotten and had gone out with his friends or something.

But the thing was, they had all gathered that day to discuss avengers stuff. And it was not a big deal… for them. But Peter had been anxious all week about it and had been giving Tony speeches that lasted about ten minutes each about how grateful and thankful and happy and ‘oh, Mr. Stark, this is the best thing that has ever happened to me’. So, they couldn’t blame Tony for worrying. There was no way in hell he had forgotten.

“Jarvis, search in the black market the key words: Spiderman, powers, heroes, superheroes and just to be sure, anything related to teenagers”.

“On it already, sir”.

“So, what, you think he got captured, killed, chopped into pieces and now he’s being sold in the black market? He’s a superhero, or well, at least has powers. If someone wanted to kidnap him, they probably would have to face the webs first. And those are strong”

Tony shrugged. Hey, he had been kidnapped too before he got to be iron man, and nobody fucking knew. So, there was a chance close to mother fucking cero that he was gonna let Peter in that situation alone. He had lost too many damn battles already.

“Sir- I found something related to the words ‘heroes’ and ‘teenagers’. Should I display it for you?”.

“Sounds Peter enough. Go ahead”.

The whole room directed their eyes to the website that appeared in front of them in a 3D screen, blinding everyone momentarily.

But suddenly, the silence was tense.

Natasha gasped, and everyone else except for Thor, cursed.  

The description of the article that Jarvis showed them said;

_“Auction taking place tomorrow afternoon in Lenox Avenue 3389. Heroes as slaves. Minimum price; 7.000 dollars._

_Our collection includes four girls, three boys and between them, the only, the one, Spider boy._

_If someone calls the cops on us, they are all going to die. Cops included”._

Tony’s blood was boiling, but he wasn’t moving, because at the same time, he was shocked.

No. 

 **No**. 

 _Please_ , no. 

“Tony…” Steve started, but Tony’s lack of words was enough for everyone to get the message. Tony was going to raise hell.

“No” Tony stated. He didn’t want to be calmed down, he wanted to get Peter back. Now.

“Okay, what are the options here?” asked Clint, looking at Tony, who was going back and forth in the room, running his hands through his hair, visibly anxious and distressed. And he was. He felt impulsive, and if he didn’t know better, he would’ve gone to where Peter was immediately, and he would’ve brought him back. But he had to be smarter than that.

“I could kill them all with my hammer” stated Thor.

“No hammer, Thor” murmured Natasha, clearly worried about the situation.

Thor growled. He wanted to use the hammer.

“They want money, right? Then let’s give them money”.

Everyone looked at Tony. The words he was saying were insane and they were obviously coming from a place of anger and desperation. He was going to pay around 7.000 dollars for Peter? Wouldn’t it be easier to just go there and rescue them?

“You- you’re gonna spend forty-nine thousand dollars?” exclaimed Steve surprised. And Tony’s face wrinkled even more.

“What?” Tony looked at the article again. No, he wasn’t blind. It said seven thousand dollars. “They cost seven”.

It sounded like he was talking about whores and he hated it. 

“And there are seven of them”.

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. There it was the moral compass again. Yes, they were seven, but the rescue mission was to save Peter, like the actual avenger. It was gonna look awfully suspicious if he bought them all in one go, because then they were gonna know he was rich and they were gonna get busted.

And Tony wasn’t about to say this out loud, because he was done with these guy’s judgy faces, but he couldn’t care less about the other ones. Sure, he was sorry for them, and of course he didn’t want anything bad to happen to them, especially if it had to be with slavery and things he didn’t know much about (but was sure were horrible), but if he had to pick between saving the entire population of children and teenagers in the world and save Peter, there was no way of getting lost. Peter mattered. He always did.

“Yeah, no”.

They could call him selfish all they wanted. Peter was going to be home, safe and sound in less than twenty-four hours even if it was the last thing Tony ever did.

And now he had to make up an excuse for May, which was gonna be a pain in the ass.

“You’re just gonna leave them alone? Aren’t you supposed to be the good one?”.

Tony didn't have time for this. Not when his world was collapsing. 

“Not anymore, Cap, not anymore”.

 

* * *

 

At least two hours passed where he was kneeling alone in the dark. The scientists had all left, and after they tried to feed him twice, resulting in Peter spitting out the food due to fear of it being contaminated, they had given up.

He had no idea what the intentions with him were. The ‘big boss’ had said something about buyers, so that might imply that they were gonna sell Peter, and well, he was hoping with every piece of his soul that they were trying to sell him alive, because Peter was strong, yeah, and he had his webs, but in the position that he was in, none of that was any help at all.

Different thoughts were going through his mind, and the most important one was if anyone had noticed he was gone, which got a laugh out of him, because it was funny. He had been so insecure most of his life about his own importance and now there he was, sitting in a cage, wondering if someone other than aunt May had noticed. But after thinking for a while, he realized that if, as a matter of fact, May had noticed, she was gonna make such a scandal, that the whole city was going to know in less than an hour. That included the avengers.

His stomach growled, and he cursed himself. Maybe the food that he had been offered wasn’t poisoned and he was being a paranoid little boy, but Tony Stark’s words resonated in his mind; ‘better safe than sorry, kid’.

And that’s when it hit him. Tony Stark! He had a direct line with May, so if she knew, he knew, right? And he was brave and awesome and ready to attack most of the time, so he probably was going to come rescue him that night. Or at least, he hoped so.

_He hoped that he actually mattered enough._

Meanwhile, back at his lab, Tony was in a crossroad. Steve had insisted so much about the other six kids that he actually didn’t know what to do now. Should he save them? It’s not like he didn’t have the forty-nine thousand dollars, he just… wanted to make sure they got Peter.

A hand was slammed in the table. Tony was mad, and he felt guilty for leaving Peter alone that whole night, scared shitless probably and waiting to be saved. But the thing was, Tony didn’t know where he was!

Another slam. He reprimanded himself. If he really wanted to know where Peter was, he would have known by then, then what the fuck was the matter? It’s not like he didn’t want to save him. He just -and hated saying this- knew that Natasha  and the others were right. They had to be careful if they wanted Peter back in one piece.

Peter fell asleep that night thinking he was gonna be saved. He wasn’t.

Tony spent the entire night debating himself whether to save him immediately or not. He didn’t.

 

* * *

 

“Wakey, wakey, Spider boy” a voice said, too loud to wake someone up, specially if they had hypersensitive hearing. “It’s time to present yourself to the buyers”.

“Sir… I’m sorry to b-bother you but… but, uh, can I know what’s happening?”

“Oh, Spider boy, I thought you were smarter than that. You are hero, hero is a good slave, you’re meeting the possible buyers that are going to pay big amount for you”.

Peter shivered, but without giving him even a second to process all this new information, he was yanked up by the hair by a hand that made him stand up. He thought he was going to be pulled down by the chains, but he wasn’t, because the kidnapper was holding them in his hands now. “No tricks, I know where your mom lives, and there’s a friend of mine outside the building”.

May?

Fear was rushing through his veins. He was going to have to be a slave, and May was gonna be in danger if he wasn’t.

And this time, he couldn’t brace himself to be brave, and a single tear rolled down his cheeks. If he had to be honest with himself, he wanted to drop to the floor and sob, and beg and- 

He was suddenly pushed back down, and the chains started to get tight again, which meant he was back at the original position, but in a different place. He had been so focused on his thoughts and anxiety that he didn’t realize he was walking.

A mixture of smells hit his nose all at once, and since the pig’s blood was all dry now, he could finally tell there were more people in the room with him. And a few of them were crying. The ones that were close to him.

There were others? He felt relieved and stressed at the same time. On one hand, he didn’t have to go through this alone, and on the other hand, if he was right, and the persons kneeling next to him were superheroes as well, then that meant these guys were not only serious, but really, truly dangerous.

“Friends, my name is Dag, and I’m host today. Before everything begins, you can have a close look to the heroes we’re selling. You can touch them and do whatever you want, but not hurt them. Every visit will be supervised, and it will last three minutes. Deal?” the guy said, in such good English in comparison to the other things he had said, that it probably had been practiced and said several times.

Many voices hummed in response, and Peter’s legs started shaking.

Suddenly, he felt his neck being grabbed and the person making him stand up, but this time the chains were not in anyone’s hand, so they were pushing him back down. He winced, but the person didn’t seem to care.

“Are you going to make this easy for us, Spiderman? Or am I going to have to use force with you? Because I’m ready to pay the price, darling, and you will be my bitch” a woman said, slowly, almost whispering in Peter’s ear.

And Peter didn’t know where he got the bravery from, but he said: “you can’t hurt me” in a voice that sounded weaker than he would’ve intended.

“Yet” she whispered once again and let his neck go. He didn’t even bother in breathing right away, not wanting to look weaker than he already looked, all chained up and vulnerable.

Few seconds passed before a man cupped his cheek and pressed his face to Peter’s, sniffing a little at Peter’s neck, and Peter was wishing so hard for it to be over, that he didn’t stop to think about how weird the situation was.

Nine persons later, Peter was breathing heavily.

“You’re the only one not interested in Spider boy” he heard Dag said, intrigue but also surprise in his voice.

“I’m more of a visual person”.

Peter gasped. That voice was so familiar. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, but he was sure he had heard it before, and not in this place.

Was he too tired and hallucinating? Probably.

“Well, then, it will begin soon in the other room. Wait there” Dag said, his accent coming back to Nordic as the people did as commanded and left the room.

Anxiety was the word Peter would use best to describe what he was feeling, specially when they made him stand up a third time that day, yanking him by the hair and pushing him into walking faster, when he was, as a matter of fact, walking fast already.

After repeating the threat, he was once again chained up to the floor, but this time, he could feel a lot of people watching and talking, murmuring between them, like teenagers do when they see someone they like, or well, strongly dislike.

He noticed that the audience he had this time was larger than the people that had touched him, so he figured there were a lot of them who just had gone there to watch.

“Ladies and gentlemen” someone started, and it was not Dag, because they had a perfect English and an American accent. “The show is about to begin, please everyone take your seats and remember who you have near you”.

Everyone laughed, apparently an inside joke that none of the teenagers knew about (Peter had already discovered that they were all teenagers for the way the smelled. Like, a lot). 

“So, the first superhero we have here, is Tigra, as you can read in your pamphlets. She’s a furry woman. Time obviously is precious, so, we will not get into details, but they’re all in the big screen”. Everyone applauded. “The price starts at seven thousand dollars”.

“Nine!” a man with raspy voice shouted.

“Ten!”.

“Fourteen!” a woman said, once again, Peter thought he recognized her voice. There was no way. Peter was crazy.

The room was quiet, apparently no one was willing to pay more than fourteen dollars for her, so Dag announced that she was sold, and Peter let out a sigh. Poor Tigra.

“Next, we have Ruby Thursday, I know gentleman, how it sounds, but she can actually shape-shift her head, so I’m pretty sure some of you would like that, huh?”. Peter felt disgusted when the men applauded. “Seven thousand dollars”.

“Twelve!” a man said, it was the same one that Peter thought he recognized back there.

Once again, it was sold.

And this went on and on until there was only Peter left. Dag had explained that they were leaving him for the end because ‘he was going to be like a well-deserved desert’. And with each superhero that was sold, Peter felt more and more desperation, and found it each second harder to breathe.

That was it. The end.

 _His_ end. 

“Finally, we have Spider boy” undoubtedly that was Dag. Nobody called him Spider boy but Dag. “I have no need to explain, you know. Since he’s really valuable, the bet will start at fifteen thousand dollars”.

Some people murmured upset, but the American man calmed them down by saying that they were being generous and if nobody wanted him, then they were gonna keep him in the lab, and ‘that would be such a waste, right?’.

"Sixteen!" someone yelled. 

“Seventeen” the woman that had grabbed him by the neck, that had stayed quiet throughout the whole action spoke, her voice sounding powerful.

“Eighteen”. There was that man again.

"Nineteen" someone shouted. 

“Twenty thousand dollars” she growled back. 

“Twenty-two” the man who's voice was familiar offered. Apparently, at the name of such big numbers, everyone else had backed off, and the dispute was between these two.

“Twenty-three!” she exclaimed, clearly desperate as they were reaching her limit.

“Thirty thousand dollars” the man finished.

Everyone gasped, and Peter had never seen Dag, but he could swear the man was starting to drool at those words.

“Sold!” he screamed almost at the top of his lungs, looking way too desperate to keep the formality. “Sold to the man with the pretty blonde hair”.

Peter started crying. There was nothing he could do now, not even if when they got to wherever the man with the pretty blonde hair lived he offered him to pay him back, because as stated before, he didn’t have that kind of money.

He wanted to scream, and call the avengers, and ask them why they hadn’t come to save him, but before he could elaborate on this thought, he felt a hand in his head, not a rough hand, not someone yanking him up by the hair again, no. Someone soft, and Peter started wondering who the hell had he been sold to.

The chains were removed momentarily and changed to what Peter could make out as handcuffs, once again, perfectly shaped for his wrists.

Before he even knew it, he was getting inside a van, and for the first time in five years, he started praying. He didn’t know if there was a God, and if that god was the god everyone talked about, but he had no time for questioning his faith. Whoever he was praying to, he just wanted them to send him a miracle.

He heard the door close and his eyes started to drop tears once again. He was still grateful that the man that had bought him wasn’t rough and wasn’t the woman from before, but he still had no say in what his destiny was going to be.

“I’m sorry May” he whispered to himself and fell asleep, in fetal position, in a dirty van, crying.

 

* * *

 

“Take that shit off of him now”.

“I didn’t want to before because it looked like he had it on for a long while and-”.

“Now!” someone ordered.

Peter was just waking up, his eyes still closed, having absolutely no reason to open them, considering he was going to be doomed for life to call that person their master, or whatever kinky thing (he hoped not) they were going to make him do.

Finally, two hands approached him and started to untie the blindfold, the light suddenly hitting Peter’s eyes stronger and brighter than he thought it could be, tears drying out still on his cheeks.

About two minutes it took him to be able to see again, and when he did, he looked around. He knew this place- he…

He looked at the man who was behind him, taking off the handcuffs with what looked like something made of fire, and then directed his swollen, healing eyes to someone standing in front of him with softening eyes.

It couldn’t be.

Was that- 

“Tony?”.


	2. Twink boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been one hell of a nightmare writing this, honestly. But I'm a proud mother.   
> Please just leave comments and kudos cuz that's my payment. Love you all and thank you fot sticking with me!

Tony sighed relieved when Peter recognized him. It had been a fucking nightmare, and there were moments when he thought they weren’t gonna make it.

Natasha kept insisting that Steve was going to be recognized, but still, they were running out of time, so it was either that, or sending Thor. And Thor was way too big, and he couldn’t speak like a normal person without declaring himself Asgardian, so no.

“Welcome back, kid” Tony said, arms folded over his chest, a smile forming on his lips.

Peter didn’t even bother in standing up, he let himself fall to the ground and started crying, his sobs coming out strong because of how long he had kept them.

He was safe.

He was finally safe.

Steve looked down at Peter and then at Tony, his eyes telling him to go grab him, and stabilize him. But Tony had never been good at calming anxiety attacks. Not even his own.

“Peter. It’s over, you’re alive, stand-up” Tony said, unfolding his arms and extending them down to take Peter by the arm gently and put a little of reassuring pressure on it. But Peter wasn’t giving in, and Tony was now kneeling on the floor next to Peter, who was having a delayed anxiety attack. “Cap, would you mind bringing some water for the boy?”.

Without thinking twice, Steve did as he was asked, jogging to the kitchen, concerned about the situation. They were alone. Peter, Tony and Steve were alone. The other ones were getting the rest of the superheroes. Steve was specifically recruited with the intention of getting Peter. ‘As quick as possible, Cap’.

And now they had him, and the kid wasn’t breathing.

“Should we- should we take him to the hospital?” asked Steve, passing the water to Tony, who immediately gave it to Peter, almost forcing it on him.

“And say _what_ , exactly? That he was kidnapped by a superhero trafficking ring and after we paid thirty thousand dollars for him, he’s having an anxiety attack?”

At the sound of those words, Peter cried harder, the water now forgotten at one side.

“Fuck” whispered Tony. He was great at making everyone feel better, clearly. “Rogers, why don’t you go to help the others with the money and the kids? I got this”.

_No, you don’t._

Steve nodded and took his things, and then, before leaving, he turned around and looked at Tony in a way that said that if he needed anything, they could call. Tony nodded back, and after the door was closed and it was just the two of them, he looked back at his protégé and sighed.

“Peter, you should get some sleep”.

Peter was now crying silently, tears streaming down his face, but it was notorious the change in his expression, feeling safer now that he didn’t have to act as if he didn’t care, or wasn’t scared.

“Peter, common” Tony insisted, but Peter didn’t move, he just opened his eyes ever so slightly and set them on the older man. And Tony sighed. He had been there before, he just- he never paralyzed himself like that, but he remembered that if he had, he would have liked for someone to take care of him.

And so, with an enormous amount of care, he took Peter in his arms, and carried him bridal style to his room. He knew how it looked, but honestly, it was just them. And the kid was just coming down from what could have been a worse and more complicated anxiety attack.

“You’re okay” Tony kept whispering in Peter’s ear, even if the boy was drifting away, his eyes swollen from crying so much and being denied light for what it felt like a week.

Finally, when they got to the room, Tony didn’t even bother to undress Peter. And he would have because he was stained in blood, but Peter was dead weight. He just hoped it wasn’t Peter’s because then he was going to leave every kind of formal plan aside and chase those mother fuckers down.

“Tony?” Peter asked, second time that day. His voice sounding slow and almost like Tony had imagined it.

“Yes, Peter?” Tony asked, turning around from the door.

“I’m sorry”.

Tony frowned. Now, from all the things he could have imagined Peter would say, an apology wasn’t one of them. Why the hell was he apologizing?

But before he could ask him, Peter was asleep. And Tony felt somewhat defeated. He hated himself for throwing everything away when it came to Peter, and he hated himself for knowing deep down in his soul that it would have been different if it wasn’t Peter, but he didn’t even know what that meant.

As much as everyone liked to test Tony’s patience and call Peter his ‘son’, Tony didn’t feel that way, and it felt almost wrong to think about Peter like a son, and maybe it was selfish, because after all these events, Peter needed someone looking after him, and Tony just hated himself for not being able to be a father figure.  

It’s just- he never had one, and he never needed it, either, so how could he even be a good father? And besides, he couldn’t think of Peter as a son, he couldn’t think of him that way because-

“Tony!” someone screamed back from the door, and Tony shrugged off his thoughts and left the room as fast as he could, reaching the door in time to see Natasha with Happy, who was bleeding.

“What happened?” he asked alarmed.

“I’m not sure, I found him like this in his car”.

Different possibilities crossed Tony’s mind, and he wasn’t trying to be narcissistic, but if they were going after Tony, why hurt Happy? There was no way people knew he was attached to him.

“I’m fine…”.

Before he could ask Happy what had really happened, he passed out in Natasha’s arms, and Tony grabbed him and put him in the nearest couch.

“Jarvis, give me Happy’s vitals. Now” he muttered as Natasha ran to the bathroom to bring whatever even remotely looked like first aid.

“Heart rate, 89, sir. Blood pressure, 109, and temperature 95”.

“He’s sweating cold, Natasha!”.

“Do you never get injured?” asked Natasha from the bathroom, clearly throwing everything to the floor in a desperate motion to find something to cure Happy.

“Not important right now!” Tony yelled.

It was a stab wound, and it wasn’t deep, but it had been effective, and after Tony searched for more, he thanked life for it being just one. He opened Happy’s jacket and ripped his shirt, pressing a towel that Natasha had just handed him into the wound.

She was calling 911 now. Tony wasn’t going to argue. Happy was a person that might have been tough and all, but he wasn’t going to let him die for his ego.

 

* * *

 

One and a half hours later, Happy was stable and Tony was back at his house, hoping that Peter hadn’t woken up while he was gone. He didn’t want him to wake up confused and alone. Not right now.

The other teenagers were fine. They had a lot of trouble convincing them that they were not going to hurt them, especially because if you see a man that gets green and big when you piss him off, it’s hard to believe something else. But they had done it, and now they were all safe too. And home, Tony hoped.

Some of them had offered Tony to pay him back, but Tony couldn’t do that. It was going to indebt them. Besides, if he was honest with himself, he dismissed them quickly, so he could go back to Peter and check on him.

He went to the second floor and opened the door carefully, not wanting to wake him up if he was still asleep, but he wasn’t. He was sitting in the bed, looking at nothing, sad face, now outside of the suit and changed to some clothes Tony had left for him.

“How are you holding up, kid?” he asked, sitting in the bed besides him. Peter didn’t answer immediately, in fact, he looked down for a second and closed his eyes.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry for what happened earlier, I didn’t know how to control my feelings and I-”.

He was cut off by Tony, who put a hand in his knee, telling him that it was okay, that it was obvious something like that was going to happen after the trauma Peter lived. And Tony could’ve sworn he saw a smile. That was everything he wanted.

Peter felt a spark pop up when Tony touched him, his breath hitching his throat and his heart quickening.

“Where were you, Mr. Stark?” he said, standing up and returning to formality.

“Happy was stabbed. We were in the hospital” he explained. And Peter’s eyes widened.

“Oh my god, is he okay? What happened? Who stabbed him? Where is he now?”.

Tony laughed. Now that was the Peter he knew.

“He’s okay now, we don’t know who stabbed him because he hasn’t woken up”.

Peter nodded, frowning ever so slightly. He remembered something.

“Sir, I- when I was still captured, I thought I heard some familiar voices at the- the auction” he said slowly, like it caused a bitter taste in his mouth.

“I’ll explain that later, let’s go eat” Tony said, and guided Peter to the door and into the kitchen. “By the way, kid, May thinks you stayed overnight to work on something with me. I didn’t want to worry her”.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Stark” Peter said, trying not to look at him in the eyes.

Yeah, that would have been very complicated, because he was sure May would have involved the feds. And yeah- it’s not like he could tell her that it was more like a superhero trafficking ring than a human trafficking one.

When they got to the kitchen, Natasha was sitting in a chair, wiping blood off her hands, and there was Steve, looking down at his phone. Peter sighed. So, they were not alone anymore. For some reason that he didn’t want to develop, he felt safer when he was only with Tony.

“Peter, hey, how you feeling buddy?” asked Steve, putting down his phone and standing up, giving his chair to Peter.

“I’m good, Sir- Captain Steve” Peter finished off awkwardly. Wow, he was truly fucked up.

They didn’t talk much after that, and most of it was because Peter didn’t feel like talking, and no one was going to force him. They all quietly assumed Peter just didn’t want to be disturbed, and so, all of them except Tony, ate in silence.

And until it was time for Peter to go, nobody dared to say anything or make any kind of noise.

 

* * *

 

“May?” he said when he got to his apartment, his voice still a little harsh.

“Peter!” she said and hugged him as soon as he closed the door. “I was getting worried already. What was so important that you had to do?”. Peter gulped and proceeded to explain to her that they were working on a project for quantum science, and since she didn’t know much about it, she didn’t know what else to ask, so they left it at that.

“Well, I hope you had fun because you’re not leaving again. I don’t like you spending the night over there, they probably don’t even have food”.

“They do, I just ate, actually”. She rolled her eyes, not believing him. But then again, it was left at that.

And three hours later, when Peter was in his bed, all the lights in the apartment down and it was quieter than hell, Peter couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if he hadn’t been rescued by Tony. By his _money_. Maybe he’d now be alone, probably still tied up and restrained, in a house he didn’t know with someone he didn’t know, yet had to serve forever. And it made him shiver, to think that fate can change so quickly, and that there was nothing he could’ve done to change it himself.

Tony, on the other hand, was still working in the lab, but had to take a break when his eyes started hurting, and so, he poured himself a glass of… whiskey? All the liquor tasted the same at this point and sat down on the nearest couch, careful to not sit in the same one that Happy had been in.

He lost sense of time, and before he knew it, his head was thrown back and he was dreaming. Kind of. Different images were in his mind, mixing with the events of the day, and suddenly, without any warning, he saw Peter. He was with the blindfold still on, hands restrained behind his back, but this time they were on Tony’s room instead of the living room, and Peter was whispering filthy things that Tony was sure Peter could never physically say.

When he woke up, he was sweating, his drink had left his hand and was dripping all over his couch, and his dick was hard. He had a fucking boner. Over his protégé. Fuck.

The next morning was hard for both of them, but for different reasons. Peter had to go to school and Tony had to pretend he didn’t have a wet dream over a teenager.

Peter’s was harder, though. He dressed up with the first thing he found, sighing. He didn’t feel like facing his friends today. He didn’t because he knew he was going to have to tell Ned everything that had happened and how suddenly he felt weirdly safe with his mentor.

And it didn’t help that Tony had sent him a message asking how he had slept, and if he was okay. Peter answered an hour later, after he thought nine possible answers that didn’t make him look suspicious.

Tony had briefly explained how they had done the whole auction thing. The man that he kept hearing was Happy, the woman, Natasha, and the buyer for him, Steve. They had arranged it somehow and it turned out fine, which Tony was apparently really surprised about. But as he said; ‘it’s over’.

But it wasn’t. Peter had barely slept that night, and had constant nightmares of him being kidnapped again, or waking up tied down and with the blindfold on. They were so horrible that at four am he had to turn on the lights and sleep the rest of the night with them on. He felt pathetic.

He knew the avengers had gone through hell, and neither of them was a chicken like Peter, and now he felt unsafe and unprotected, and he couldn’t go on patrol that night. What if he was kidnapped again? He thought that maybe it was best to leave superhero work for the actual superheroes. Not a stupid boy that didn’t know how to take care of himself.

Maybe he needed to do teenager stuff. What on earth could go wrong with that, right? He was constantly receiving shit for being too ahead of his age. Maybe he needed to start partying and drinking and smoking. Maybe he needed to start… dating?

Yeah, like he was going to find a boy that liked him. In his school. Where everybody but Ned hated him.

Well, it’s not like he couldn’t sneak out and go to a gay bar. He was seventeen, and it was easy to get a fake ID these days, he just needed to sort out his contacts.

Peter nodded. Friday it was, then. He just hoped he didn’t freak out ten minutes before it all happened.

One week later, he couldn’t believe he went through with it. He was sitting on a chair (maybe too awkwardly), having a drink that he could barely get down his throat and looking at guys while they moved to the music’s rhythm on the dance floor.

For the first time in years, he didn’t feel weird. Guys were looking at him, some of them winked and several invited him to go dance, but he couldn’t just yet. He’s wasn’t drunk. He needed to be drunk. So, he drank, and drank and after a while he didn’t know exactly how many he had, but he didn’t care.

A guy, a few inches taller than him, brunette, and relatively skinny approached him and grabbed Peter by the waist, pulling him up from his sit and close to him. “Are you looking for company tonight, sweetie?” he asked in a much deeper voice than Peter thought, making him harden immediately.

“I don’t know, are you available?” he inquired, the drinks making him appear way more self-confident than he was. The guy laughed.

“I wouldn’t be offering it, pretty boy. My name’s Brian and I want to make that guy over there jealous. His name is Justin”.

And maybe it was the drinks, or the fact that he suddenly didn’t care about being used as an object to make someone else jealous, but he threw himself on top of Brian, kissing him roughly, almost impatiently.

Brian kissed back, and not only that. He squeezed Peter’s ass, making him moan drunkenly.

If he had to be honest with himself, he felt in heaven. Wanted, needed even.

“Bathroom?” Peter whispered, pulling himself away only inches from the guy’s mouth, his lips already swollen and eyes lusty.

Brian nodded, and Peter followed him into the bathroom stall, where other couples were making out, uninterested of their surroundings. And before he even knew it, he was being pressed against a wall, and he had a hand on his dick moving to unbuckle his belt and open his fly. Peter was painfully hard and could barely understand anything of what was happening. He just knew he had to release himself that night.

“So hard for me already, aren’t you-?” he cut himself off and looked at Peter.

“Peter”.

“Peter, the pretty boy” Brian smirked, his eyes going black with the little whimpers he was getting out of Peter as he moved his hand slowly in his cock. Peter felt like he needed to do something too, so he reached out to grab at Brian’s dick. Brian didn’t even flinch, probably way too experienced to get excited with something like that, like Peter the virgin did.

But he came. Twice. One from Brian’s hand and the second touching himself while sucking Brian off. The guy was like a Greek god.

“Hopefully I helped you with your Justin problem” muttered Peter, voice wrecked and wiping the cum from his lips as they left the bathroom.

“Yeah. Too young boyfriend doesn’t know how to behave. Actually, if you look at that corner, he’s staring at us, probably waiting for you to go so he can yell at me”.

“Yikes. Sorry dude”.

Brian shrugged. “Some may say he’s the love of my life”. Yeah, Brian was too drunk too.

 

* * *

 

It was three in the fucking morning. And he didn’t have a ride home, technically couldn’t trust anyone because he was drunk, and the cherry on top, was that he felt like puking.

His phone made a sound and he checked it. It was another message from Tony Stark, and he couldn’t help it but roll his eyes. No. Not now.

Few moments passed until he made the decision of calling May. If his options were narrowed to getting raped and murder and having his aunt be mad at him, he’d gladly take the mad aunt.

But when the other line picked up, it wasn’t May.

“Kid?”.

Peter frowned. Was Tony with May? He checked the identifier.

No, he had simply called his mentor while drunk. Excellent.

“Mr. Stark! Sorry to bother you… I meant-” but he was interrupted by some guys that were walking by, that started whistling at him and calling him sexy names. Peter laughed.

“Where are you?” Tony said.

“Not really sure” Peter said, a small giggle escaping his mouth. “I meant to call aunt May. You were a mistake”. And he stumbled a little, making some noise with the trash that was there.

“Are- are you drunk?” Tony said in disbelief.

“No” he said, and suddenly felt a warmth behind him, and turned around ever so slightly, only to find a ginger guy pressing his dick to his ass and whispering; “wanna come home with me tonight?”.

Tony heard that, and what was worse, he heard Peter moan after it. He hated it. He hated it so much. His blood was boiling with rage at that.

“Jarvis, coordinates” he ordered, receiving them on his phone. “Peter, I’m gonna go get you. Don’t fucking move and don’t fucking leave with nobody”.

Peter sighed, the guy had left when he heard someone else on the phone. “Alright, Mr. Stark, I’m at the gay bar between fifth and the other street”. Tony rolled his eyes. What a good reference was that.

And when after waiting for twenty minutes, Tony showed up in a fancy car, sunglasses on and an angry look on his face, Peter thought he was going to shit himself.

“Get in. Now”. Peter did, and the drive back to Tony’s was silent. Too silent.

At first, Peter thought that Tony was going to drive him to his house, but with mental abilities functioning or not, he knew his way home, and that wasn’t it. They were going back to the tower, and that meant he was going to get a lecture he didn’t want to listen to.

It was the first time he had been listening to people! He was doing teenager stuff, he was partying and getting drunk and having sex without feelings. Why couldn’t anyone feel proud of him, ever.

He knew, though, that Tony was being gentle and a good person by letting him crash at his house, because in the state that he was in, he was probably going to have troubles getting into the elevator, entering the house, getting to bed, and all of this while waking up May, which if he didn’t have to deal now, why push it?

The tower, luckily, wasn’t too far away from the gay bar, so the awkward, silent ride home was short. Peter just didn’t want to think about what was about to come next.

The elevator and majorly everything between the car and the actual floor was uncomfortable for Peter, and it helped to get him more grounded. He at least knew what was happening now.

“I’m going to bed” he spoke once the elevator closed and they were on Tony’s property.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”.

Peter frowned. Was Tony deaf? “To bed”.

Tony raised an eyebrow and Peter gulped. It was a rhetorical question.

“I went to a gay bar. What, is that a crime?”

“At that bar, at your age, yes” Tony inquired.

_So are your desires, Tony._

“Well, I had a fun time and next weekend I’m going again” he stated.

“No, you’re not”.

“I can do whatever I want, you know?” Peter hiccupped.

“Why do you want to get into that life, Peter, for fuck’s sake it’s not-”.

“I sucked a dick tonight and got off twice and I was living, and I was not alone, and I’m doing it again”.

Tony growled. He definitely, _definitely_ , didn’t think through his next words.

“I basically bought you, Peter. You’re my property”.

Peter blushed, his head hurting like hell but forgiving about that momentarily at Tony’s words. They were strangely exciting. But he was not going to give in that easily. He was angry too. He _had to be_. He had practically been called an object. 

“Am I, now. Well, guess you’ll have to watch your property’s mouth stretched around-”.

Even I, the author, knew he was not gonna get passed that sentence.

He was immediately pushed into a wall, and Tony was growling, acting more out of impulse rather than brain.

“Don’t fucking speak to me like that again, you little shit. I own you. I own your ass, your face and everything I own, follows my rules”.

Peter hated him. He hated him for looking so fucking perfect there, threatening him.

“Oh, is that right?”

Tony pressed him further into the wall, not saying the words, but stating that he took what he wanted.

“Then prove it”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u know who justin and brian are, u the real OG  
> tumblr is: @starkerdays


	3. Let go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so, this is the chapter where Peter uses the safe-word. If this makes you uncomfortable or it triggers you, please don't read it (it happends towards the end of the chapter, though. The first time they have sex everything turns out okay). No hits, comments or kudos will be worth your mental health.  
> In the notes at the end of the chapter I will say what happened in case you want to skip it.  
> Thank you and take care of yourself!

The kid had to be plain stupid if he thought he was getting out of this without a proper punishment. But there was a factor he wasn’t counting on, and that was that Peter _wanted_ to be punished.

Actually, he didn’t know what he wanted, but he definitely wanted something, because he never in his life would have imagined saying that to his mentor. Words that were so extremely inviting and defiant.

“You really want me to prove it, Peter?” Tony asked, giving Peter a last chance to back off.

Peter didn’t answer, instead, he looked at Tony up and down and scoffed, like saying that Tony couldn’t demonstrate it. But instead of an angry look, which is what Peter had expected, he got a smirk. And that’s exactly the moment he realized he had fucked up. But once again, there was no turning back now.

Before he even knew it, Tony pushed forward and captured Peter’s lips with his own, hungry and desperately, giving the boy no air at all, but at the same time, not enough of him. And Peter was left hanging soon enough, because Tony pulled away and looked at Peter, as if studying if his actions had done anything to him.

They had, obviously, and Peter was now hard in his pants for like the fourth time that night. Good thing he could go around nine per day.

“Is that it?” Peter hissed, trying to be as confident as he could, maybe pass off as smug, but oh. Tony had had fucking enough. He grabbed Peter by the legs and forced him to wrap them around his body, and then he pressed further, making them bump bulges. Peter moaned, opening his mouth just perfectly, and later that same day, Tony would remember thinking in that exact moment how good he would have looked with his lips wrapped around his cock.

He didn’t develop on this thought, though, because Peter jerked his hips forward, making their bulges bump again, at what he earned a very special look from Tony, who Peter could swear had turned his eyes completely black and was looking at him as if he was a prey.

“Who the fuck told you, you could move?” he asked, in a rhetorical way, his eyes going to the neck of the kid.

Tony had to be a bad person for doing this, right? Peter was a fucking teenager, he was small and probably vulnerable and there was Tony, an old man doing whatever he wanted. But the thing was, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it and it was mostly Peter’s fault. Besides, if Tony had noticed a hint of disgust, discomfort or something among those lines, he would have never continued. But he didn’t. And Peter was now at his mercy, kind of struggling to answer to that question, the alcohol taking a part on it too, and wrapped around his waist, waiting for Tony to keep the thing going.

The boy was a virgin, he was sure of that, but he wasn’t unexperienced, and that’s why he kept writhing slightly, trying to turn things around and make Tony his bitch, but that was not going to happen. Not a chance.

He let go of Peter to think for a moment, who instinctively unwrapped his legs from Tony’s waist, so he could stand up, his face asking what was going on. Tony sighed. He was debating himself. Because he wanted this. He wanted to tear that fucking boy apart and make him remember who he belonged to, but at the same time, he didn’t want to damage his property. What if after that Peter was completely broken?

He was taken out of his enchantment when Peter spoke. “I can take it, Tony”. He must have analyzed the situation and guessed what was wrong. Smart boy after all.

Fuck it. This was worth going to jail for.

The hungry look came back to Tony’s eyes as he said:

“Take of your clothes then. And don’t call me Tony unless you really want to get punished” not a change in his voice. Peter gulped and then nodded, starting to unbutton his pants, rushing to get everything done. He knew he had been a piece of shit for talking to Tony like that, but now he wanted it. He wanted it and he couldn’t understand why he was so hard if he had already gotten off two times when he was with Brian.

Brian wasn’t Tony though. And that was the problem. There was nothing that could explain why he was so turned on when Tony told him that he was his property. And nothing could have prepared him for what came right after.

When he was nearly naked, only his socks and underwear remaining, he looked up. A hand was wrapped in his wrist, making him stop. Tony didn’t press it, though, because he still had scars that were made by the chains. Tony growled at the thought. He hated them for damaging his property, something that was so undoubtedly and utterly _his_.

A sudden need of protecting this boy crossed his mind, and he realized something.

“Come with me”.

Peter needed to see who he belonged to. He needed to have a visual representation of it forever, because after this, Tony was not going to let him go out ever again.

“Whe-where are we going?” he asked, voice sounding slightly more scared. But before Tony had a chance to answer, they were there, and a massive mirror in front of a chair in the terrace was displayed just perfectly so it was public, but nobody could actually see it, not from that distance.

Peter’s mouth fell open, and his dick got harder. Oh, boy. Tony sat on the chair and took off his shirt, then opened his fly but didn’t take off his pants. Peter, for some reason knew exactly what he had to do. He finished getting undressed and kneeled between Tony’s legs, facing the mirror, his gaze focusing on everything _but_ his own eyes. He didn’t want to look at himself. He only wanted to look at Tony.

Tony looked at himself, and the first few rays of sunshine hitting his face, and then he looked at Peter, his hands on his protégé’s shoulders. “Look at yourself, pretty boy, so hard, so smooth, so perfect. I never own anything that is not absolutely perfect”, and his words must have made an effect because Peter ended up looking at himself. His hair, his shoulders, where big hands rested, his tummy, his legs, his dick. His _leaking_ dick. A moan escaped his lips.

Tony hunkered down a little, so he could whisper in Peter’s ears as he looked at himself. “Doesn’t it feel good? To be that perfect?” He knew that he was praising Peter way too much and that was not his original plan, but how could he not to? He was truly a sight for sore eyes.

It was truly beautiful. The scene, I mean (well, Peter too). He could see himself and Tony’s hand roaming around, groping him everywhere, touching every bit of skin, one of his hands now on his hair, pulling softly, uncovering Peter’s neck, where Tony’s mouth ended, sucking and leaving marks, only to lift his eyes and observe Peter observe himself. Did he understand how pretty he was?

His dick remained untouched, because Tony had big plans for it, and when Peter started moaning and mouthing ‘fuck’ while his own hand started moving towards his erection, Tony yanked him back by the hair. Hard.

“No. Only mine” he growled into the boy’s ear. The sun was rising, and they were going to be soon in the light. Tony liked the dark, though, because he felt at home. He was dark after all, his thoughts and desires too.

“Tony, please” Peter muttered, forgetting that Tony had told him to not call him that. And he earned the punishment that came right after, that was Tony kissing him from the side roughly, not letting him breathe and biting his lower lip, getting a little bit of blood. Peter was practically sobbing, squirming on the floor with the urge of getting fucked.

“Open yourself up, baby, and we’ll talk about getting you to come”. Peter cried, a tear falling down his face, wanting to come right now, or at least have his dick inside of him. He was needy, and he hated himself for being needy, but he couldn’t help it. Not when he had Tony nibbling at his earlobe, whispering filthy things into him, touching him, brushing his erection with the mere tip of his fingers.

But Peter obeyed. He didn’t feel like doing once again something Tony didn’t want, so he coated his own fingers with saliva and looked at himself in the mirror, knowing that it was not going to be enough to prepare himself, one because saliva wasn’t lube and second because he knew already that Tony’s dick was big. Bigger than his fingers, at least.

But he complied once again, and his hands moved shakily towards his asshole, trying to prepare himself kneeling there, but having to change positions, because he needed to have more space and be spread out. So, he did exactly that, he rested his back on Tony’s legs while he looked at him and spread his legs wide, being able to spot his wanting hole in the mirror.

Once he entered one and his head was thrown back instinctively, Tony looked down at him and smiled. A true smile, then he whispered: “you’re such a good boy now. Couldn’t you have behaved like that before?”. Peter shook his head. After all, without his misbehave, they wouldn’t have been able to get where they were.

“I’m going to need to know your safe word, Peter, in case you want to stop”. Peter nodded, realizing for the first time that he was going to need one.

“Pie” he said, his eyes closing a second when he added a second finger. And Tony nodded, laughing a little bit.

“Can I know why?” he asked, his hands now going down Peter’s chest, touching his nipples and watching as his back was arching for the pleasure he was giving himself.

“Because getting your partner to stop when you want to, should be as easy as pie” he muttered, shrugging slightly.

Tony was sure he was the sweetest boy in the whole world. And he was so sure that he wanted to wreck him.

“Pie it is, then”. Peter didn’t ask for Tony’s because he knew he wasn’t going to need it. Tony was good at stopping when he wanted to. “Are you ready?” Tony asked when he saw Peter moving faster and pursuing his fingers eagerly, and it took everything in Peter to nod and stop fingering himself.

He moved away from Tony when he realized he was trying to take off his pants, and once he did, leaving them on the floor next to his own shirt and Peter's underwear, Peter looked at him with hooded eyes and batting eyelashes. Tony nodded. He had permission to do it.

Tony was impossibly harder, his dick throbbing and waiting desperately for something to happen. And Peter finally got close to him and sat down, sinking Tony’s dick all the way, and facing the mirror. He blushed immensely when Tony grabbed his dick, stroking softly, clearly not wanting Peter to come just yet.

They were deliberately looking at themselves in the mirror, vanity flashing through their eyes, specially Tony’s, as he looked at his beautiful student and lover jumping on his dick, moving his hips so prettily, eyes fixated on Tony, and sticking his tongue out, licking all over his lips, seducing Tony. And suddenly, Tony had enough.

“Turn around, I want to see you” he said, brows furrowed, needing to watch Peter come.

“There’s a big ass mirror there” spoke Peter, his voice sounding broken and raspy, probably filled with pleasure, which was reassured when he kept jumping harder and harder on his dick.

“Okay, I want to kiss you, then”. Excuses. He just wanted Peter to be looking into his eyes. And Peter stood up and turned around, sitting once again in Tony’s dick, but this time straddling him, one leg at each side, his breathing quickening when Tony put both hands on his waist and started to rock his hips, pounding into him with the force of an animal.

Sounds were filling the room, the dominant one being the flesh slapping against flesh, followed by Peter’s sobs and cries.

“I- I want to come” Peter managed to say, his voice breaking slightly, just as Tony found the right angle, thrusting directly into his prostate, his eyes lusty.

“Just because you’re asking for permission, you can” Tony smirked, having troubles breathing himself, feeling his own chest rising and falling.

But what he didn’t expect, was Peter capturing his lips with his own, and kissing him as his movements became more erratic, desperate even, seeking some release. Finally, his orgasm came, staining all over their tummies, and moaning inside Tony’s mouth, moving fiercely and eagerly, making Tony get over the edge faster, coming inside Peter, filling him up. And since they were in a position where gravity worked, Tony’s come started dripping down Peter’s hole and onto Tony’s dick, being it the hottest shit they both had ever seen.

All things considered, Tony had been very sweet. And Peter knew it, and he was thankful, because it was his first time after all.

They stayed like that, kissing softly for a few minutes.

 

* * *

 

Days passed, and Peter had to go every afternoon to Tony’s house, so Tony could make sure he hadn’t done anything with anyone and so they could talk, and usually make out (and other things). He was really possessive, though, and even if he was annoying and slightly brutal when it came to Peter hanging out with friends, Peter felt weirdly okay with it. He felt like someone cared for him. And Tony did. 

Until one day something happened. Something neither of them thought could happen.

Peter had appeared right after school, with his backpack and all his notebooks still with him, which meant he hadn’t had time to leave all that stuff at his house, considering Tony was waiting for him at a certain hour.

“Tony?” he asked when he got to the top of the elevator, his voice tired, but with a hint of excitement on it. He was normally happy to see Tony, specially after long days where he had to run and take tests and face his bully, which Tony had made very clear was going down if he overstepped. Peter never told him if he did, though. He didn’t want to cause drama, and specially be blamed for it after.

“Here” Tony yelled from the kitchen, where he was drinking a bottle of vodka. Peter sighed. He hated when he drank because that meant something had happened and it was never good.

“What’s going on?” he asked, making his way towards Tony, and putting his hands on his waist. Tony scoffed.

“Some Avengers stuff. I’m good”. And that rejection meant he didn’t want to talk about it. So, Peter took the glass from his hand and left it besides them, taking now Tony’s hands and kissing him. First just a peck on the lips but then, Tony got more into it, kissing him roughly.

“Couch?” Peter offered. He knew where this was going, and he was ready. He had remained ready since the dad they finally fucked.

Tony led them both to the couch and sat down on it, Peter straddling him and going back to kissing. Tony’s hand on Peter’s cheek, cupping them strongly.

But for some reason, probably trying to reach his waist of his hips eventually, he ended up on his neck, Tony’s hand supporting it, but squeezing a little bit. Not intentionally.

Immediately, Peter’s mind went to his kidnapping. The woman’s voice resonating in his head, flashbacks of the blindfold, the chains, the anxiety and the fear, all coming together.

Peter tried to shrug those thoughts off but couldn’t. He pulled away from Tony’s mouth, head spinning, heart racing, hands trembling, and he closed his eyes.

“To-Tony… Pie. Pie!” he screamed when he couldn’t set free from Tony’s hands, who was now holding him by the shoulders. Peter was writhing, trying to get off of him, desperately moving, eyes open again but lost, looking everywhere and seeing absolutely nothing familiar.

Tony frowned. And then it hit him.

Oh. Fuck.

_Pie!_

He let go of Peter, who stood up and sat down on another couch, tripping and almost falling in doing so, closing his eyes and resting his head on his knees, moving like a psychiatric patient.

He didn’t know what was happening, he didn’t know where he was and if anything of what he was living was real or not. He didn’t even know his name. Tears were now falling down his face, and he wasn’t being able to control them.

“Peter?” Tony asked calming, but it didn’t deliver the way he wanted to.

In Peter’s head, Tony’s voice had turned into Dag’s. His kidnapper. He could hear the accent, the velocity and the bad English in the words, and when he opened his eyes he was back at the darkness, his head now completely spinning.

Fear started to rush through his veins again, and his hands went straight to his chest, trying to grasp at his heart, which was loud in his ears, hearing a voice but very distantly. The dizziness hit him hard, and he started seeing everything _but_ what he needed to see. The reality.

Tony stood up when he realized something was wrong and went to catch Peter right before he passed out, falling into Tony’s arms, head falling backwards.

Tony was scared.

He had no idea what was going on. And this time he didn’t have time to waste because Peter wasn’t sick, and yet he had passed out.

“Peter!” he said panicking, moving the body of his lover slightly, not getting any reaction from him. Tony had only one thing to do.

He stood up, Peter on his arms still and took Peter’s phone and yelled: “Jarvis, suit!”. If he had to fly all around the fucking city until he found a decent hospital, he was going to do it.

The suit attached to him in less than four seconds, and Tony left the tower, flying with Peter in his arms. This time he was going to do things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who skipped the last part:
> 
> After they have sex, basically Peter has to report every day to Tony, and one day while he's at it (in his tower with him), Tony does something that triggers the kidnapping again. Peter uses the safe word but Tony understands too late and Peter has a panic attack, resulting on him passing out.  
> Tony takes him to the hospital as Iron Man.


	4. Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I can't believe I actually finished this. I thought I was going to die of old age before doing that but guess not.   
> If you came here thinking this was going to be way darker than it is, that makes two of us. I have no idea what happened to me along the way but suddenly I was writing fluff and honestly, I don't regret it.   
> Thank you for your patience. It has been the best ride.

Peter thought that it had to be the most awful bed he had ever been in, and he hadn’t even truly woken up yet. He slowly opened his eyes, only to find himself at… the hospital? What the fuck?

He looked around and saw Tony, sitting on a chair, eating a sandwich and looking at his phone, too distracted to notice the boy.

“Tony” Peter started, voice low and confused, and he could see Tony’s eyes light up when he realized that Peter was awake again. Awake and okay. The sandwich and the phone put aside faster than the speed of light.

“Finally, kid. For a second there I thought you weren’t waking up” Tony joked, but it wasn’t reciprocated. Instead, Peter raised an eyebrow, not asking verbally, but assuming his lack of laughter or anything, really, was pretty revealing on itself.

“You don’t remember” affirmed Tony, more to himself rather than Peter, his eyes looking down momentarily, and a big sigh escaping his mouth, probably stressed already.

“You passed out” started Tony, looking at Peter now, his eyes searching for any signs of recognition. “I think I might’ve done something, you know, triggering and you had a panic attack, called me Dag and passed out”.

Peter’s eyes widened. He called Tony ‘Dag’?

There was no way Tony didn’t feel guilty, because even though he didn’t know exactly what had happened, it had been him. It had been his fault, or otherwise, Peter wouldn’t have said the safe word. And Peter realized quickly that that was what was going on.

“Are you okay?” asked fearfully Peter, as if he was asking something forbidden. He knew damn well that he wasn’t supposed to talk about those things with him. Tony hated talking about himself and worse, his own feelings. What good were they anyway? That’s what he always told Peter, and he knew he was crossing a line, but after all, he was in the hospital, laying on a bed, so he did have some perks.

The man furrowed his brows, concern written all over his face.

“What?”

“You heard me, are you okay?” he repeated the question, confidently.

“I think you don’t know _you’re_ the one in the hospital. Yes, I’m okay, are you okay?”

Peter rolled his eyes. There was no way to talk to him, to make him understand that there were worse things that physical pain, or physical trauma, and that it was okay not to be okay if you were open about it. But Tony wasn’t. He kept all these feelings for him, doing very unhealthy things as coping mechanisms.

And then something clicked inside Peter. Tony wasn’t family. Not direct family anyway.

“How come you’re here?” Peter whispered and looked at the door, as if someone was going to try and separate them.

“Everyone has a price” he shrugged, eyes fixated on Peter’s arm now, where a very big IV was connected to a machine, and the tip inside Peter’s skin, making the boy look at himself.

“You were not responding to anything. I thought you had gone into cardiac arrest while I brought you here. Which, by the way would have been very unfortunate. I could already see the newspaper tomorrow. Ironman doesn’t take his boyfriend to the ER fast enough and dies. True hero”.

Silence.

Peter knew that Tony was trying to make things easier with humor, bringing himself down as usual, to not think about the fact that Peter had allegedly said the safe word and that had called him Dag, all while having a full-on panic attack and making his -boyfriend? feel guilty.

But it wasn’t easy. Peter somehow had mistaken Tony with Dag. And had called him that. Peter could barely start to understand what something like that could mean to someone that had gone through everything Tony had been through. It must’ve hurt, and Tony wasn’t saying anything for the boy’s sake.

“Boyfriend?”

They didn’t have a title, they never had, and both had fallen into a comfortable unawareness, where they just assumed they belonged to each other (specially Peter to Tony) and called it a night.

And after a month or so, after Tony had been so possessive, checking on him, texting and calling every night, asking for proof of what Peter told him he was doing so he could make sure he wasn’t on a night out finding more Brian’s. After all the love-hate sex they had, all the unnecessary fighting because Peter couldn’t keep up with the man’s schedule, and especially after all the crying he had done, trying to find an explanation, a reason to believe it was okay, he thought he was never going to hear the words he heard next:

“I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have done that to you and you-” Tony stood up, taking the jacket he had left behind the chair he was sitting in. “And you’re free to go, do whatever you want to without having to give explanations to an old man. Your aunt will be here soon”. He directed himself to the door, glancing back at Peter, as if he was looking at the perfect boy he had practically fallen in love with for the last time.

But Peter was fast enough for the first time in his life, straightening up, and basically yelling into the air: “Wait, Tony!”.

Tony stopped dead on his tracks, his lover’s voice never failing on influencing him, but incapable of looking back, giving Peter the chance to say whatever he needed to say.

“I don’t want to go, Tony. I don’t want to go”.

“I’m bad for you”

“But I’m yours anyway”

Tony turned around. How couldn’t he at those words?

“You should accept that I’m bad and just let me go, Peter”.

“I don’t want to. You called me your boyfriend five seconds ago, Tony, you feel the same way”.

He closed his eyes, his heart heavy on his chest. How was he supposed to be good for him after all he had done to him? After all the times he had rushed him over to the tower to see him and punished him after because he didn’t make it on time? Peter should fear him, should want to run away at given the chance and never want to come back.

“Let me fucking love you, Tony”.

And remember my words now, people, these are the exact words Peter would later realize were the greatest he’s ever said, and something he would never regret.

Before Tony could answer, May entered the room running, pushing Tony out of the way, and hugging Peter, as if Tony had done something to him.

“Aunt May!” Peter screamed in surprise, not realizing how everything had happened so quickly.

“You’re okay! What happened?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with anxiousness, turning her head from Peter to Tony.

“Uh- I…” he started, voice shaky. Was he supposed to tell her now that he was Spider-Man, and that he had been kidnapped? How would she take that?

Peter didn’t notice immediately, but Tony had left, probably uncomfortable with May there, considering she didn’t know a thing, and Tony wasn’t exactly the best at keeping secrets. But it was okay, Peter would text him again when he was out of the hospital and they would continue the hard conversation they had ahead of them.

That night, he told his aunt all about Tony. How in love he was with his smile, with his eyes and that everything that had happened, had happened because something had triggered some memories from an assault he had a few weeks back, which ‘he didn’t tell his aunt before, so she wouldn’t get scared or overprotective’.

She got scared and overprotective after that day, by the way.

“You think I’m stupid, Peter?” she asked, a small laugh falling from her lips. “You think I don’t know? You come home every day limping. I’m too old not to know what that means. I just didn’t know if you were with Tony or if he was just providing place or something. Turns out he’s providing pleasure.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh, god” he whispered, hiding his face with his hands, trying to make it less obvious that he was embarrassed.

“It’s okay, honey. You’re an adult now, and you do you. As long as he doesn’t hurt you and makes you happy, we’re settled”.

Peter smiled widely, experiencing for the first time in a long time, a sense of relief and support.

May was truly the most amazing person he had ever had the honor of meeting.

 

* * *

 

Three weeks after the hospital, something the boy hadn’t expected, happened, and it had Peter feeling completely miserable.

Tony stopped answering his phone, stopped replying to texts and if Peter showed up at the Stark Tower, Jarvis would tell him that Tony wanted to be alone.

So, basically, Tony had moved on, forgotten about him as if he was a slut he could throw away when he got bored. And Peter was too devastated to do something about it. He stopped sleeping, eating, and well, he refused to talk about it with May, who everyday swore on her life she was going to go hunt him down and tell him how much of a dick he was.

Peter didn’t want that though, so they were just words.

But something must have happened, right? When Tony had his moment back at he hospital, Peter was sure. Sure that Tony was in love with him too, that it wasn’t a dream. And that thought kept him going.

And May insisted so much that Peter went to therapy, that he had agreed, and well, Mark, his psychologist, wasn’t exactly a dear, but he was effective. And soon, he only hoped someday Tony would go back to him, with absolutely no intentions of holding a grudge against him. He still loved him after all.

But when things seemed better, and Peter was leaving the house again, hanging out with his friends, eating like a normal person and overall everyone was slightly happier, a knock on Peter’s door changed everything once again.

Because, when he opened the door, thinking that it was probably one of his friends, he found himself standing face to face with Tony Stark.

“Peter, hi” Tony started, not a hint of nervousness in his voice, even if he was shitting himself.

It took Peter a second to understand what was really happening, and after his eyes got watery, his body reacted almost unconsciously, and his hand flew to give Tony’s face the slap of the century.

“Yeah, I might deserve that”.

“Where were you?” cried Peter, a tear finally rolling down his cheek. He had kept all these feelings inside of him for so long that he couldn’t take it anymore, not when he was dealing directly with the reason of his suffering, not when he was still in love with him.

“I was sorting my shit out”.

“Couldn’t you have said so on a text? A call? You went from checking on me every day, every minute, ask me where I was, with whom, doing what, making sure I wasn’t doing something stupid to not care at all? What if I am doing something stupid?”

Tony frowned. Peter wouldn’t dare, right? His heart started to raise slightly, and he tried to be subtle, but his eyes darted immediately down at Peter’s wrists, knowing he wouldn’t be able to, hoping he was right.

He earned a scoff almost immediately. “It’s not like that”.

The man could breathe again, the mere thought of Peter hurting himself making him want to rescue him and take care of him for the rest of the eternity.

“I’m sorry” Tony blurted out. Peter didn’t seem amused and made it clear that he wanted development with his face.

“I’m sorry for leaving, and not telling you what was going on, or if I was okay at all, but I never stopped caring. I made Happy follow you every day after school and make sure you got here. I made him get back to me with news if you left the house Friday or Saturday night”.

“Happy? Oh my god! Is he back?”

Tony smirked. He knew Peter hadn’t changed a bit, and yet he had been nervous about it.

“He’s okay. The guy who stabbed him was just trying to rob him”. It wasn’t true, but he didn’t want to concern Peter about it, because it was highly linked to the kidnapping and he didn’t want the boy to feel any responsibility for it.

Peter nodded and then looked at who used to be his boyfriend. “Why are you here? If Happy has been following me then you know I’m okay again. If you really wanted to part ways why make me feel like shit all over again by appearing on my doorstep? It’s almost cruel”.

His heart sank abruptly. He hadn’t expected that, and he realized that it was because when Peter was with him, he was immensely immature, and now, after the trauma and the whole break-up thing, he had grown up.

“I’m here _because_ you’re finally okay again, so I figured I had a chance of being heard”.

Peter sighed, hating himself internally for being easy to read. The thing was, and he hated himself more for this, that even if Tony had showed up when he was still crying every night and refusing to go to a psychologist, he still would have given him a chance. And he knew deep down that he shouldn’t, because it was wrong, and Tony had somehow used him. But the desire and the way Peter kept being constantly drawn back to him made it harder.

“You have ten minutes, because after that my aunt will be here and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to see you”.

“That bad, huh?” asked Tony as he stepped into the house, looking at it and feeling the boy’s smell all over, getting high on it. He finally turned around and faced Peter. The boy was staring at him with confusion and pain, and Tony wanted to shoot himself in the eyes for that. Though he understood that it was now or never.

“When I pushed you away, I truly believed that it was the right thing to do, and while my mind started to put you first, saying you needed to find someone that could make you happy and not someone who had practically forbidden you from socializing with other people, I didn’t notice that I was actually being selfish. And stupid, and I was putting you second, and I shouldn’t have done that”.

If he had to admit it, it was sweet. He had never heard such words from him. All they ever talked about was science, sex, or both at the same time, which sounds strange, but they had their kinks.

“And what have you come here to ask?”

“A date”

“One date?”

“Only one, and if you hate me, or you hate it, you can leave, and I swear to you I won’t bother you again”

It was almost stupid how easily Peter had agreed.

 

* * *

 

“Do you know where he’s taking you?” asked May, her voice judgy but her eyes comprehensive.

“Not a clue. He just said to be ready at seven and have a suit on, which if course, he bought for me”.

“He’s literally buying _you_ ” she scoffed.

“Let him. If everything turns terribly wrong today, he will back off”.

And May was about to answer that with a snarky comment, but there was a knock on the door, and Peter practically ran to it, finding Tony behind it, with a smug grin and looking sexier than ever.

“Ready?”

Peter nodded, stepping outside of the house.

“If you don’t take care of him I will personally hunt you down and make you eat your own ass!”.

“Noted” shouted back Tony, grabbing Peter by the hand and jogging a little bit to his car, safe from the yelling of Peter’s aunt.

“I’m sorry, she can be a handful sometimes, but she’s good to me” Peter mumbled, getting inside of the car as Tony started it.

“No need to apologize, Peter. I will answer to her screams as long as you want me in your life”.

And Peter couldn’t help but be slightly touched by his words, which he completely forgot about when they got to the restaurant. A restaurant that looked like it was more expensive that Peter’s whole future salary, and fancier than all the actors at the red carpet together.

“T-Tony?” he asked shyly. He was very different from all these people. He didn’t know fancy people manners, or even if he was dressed accordingly, or…

“Trust me”.

And Peter did.

 

* * *

 

The table seemed like it was taken straight out of a telenovela. It was literally drowning in flowers, and it was obviously made specially for them because each chair had a fucking gold thing with their names written on it.

The restaurant had a dance floor, and disco ball, and it looked like every single celebrity on earth had been there, their ghosts yelling at Peter to get out of there, for he wasn’t worthy.

“Too much” Peter whispered, hoping Tony would get the hint and do something about it, but it fired backwards.

“You haven’t seen the half of it”.

And as Peter braced himself to move forward and get close to the table, he could make out three little boxes in the shape of a heart, strategically set for them to see as soon as they were close enough.

“Let me”, “Fucking”, “Love you”.

Peter’s heart had to have made a sound because he knew this is where he didn’t have an escape. He was in too deep.

“Sit down” offered Tony and looked at him while he did so himself, staring at the little boy’s face, trying to find amusement, happiness, even disgust, anything at all. But Peter was hiding his emotions as he took the little box that had the ‘love you’ carved on it and opened it. White and dark chocolates in three different roads, each of them shaped into a heart.

It was way over the top, but it was romantic, and it had ‘Tony’ written all over it.

Even the fucking tablecloth was pink and had little heart doddles. Was this Tony’s idea of romantic?

“You hate it” said Tony, head falling a little, eyes sad.

“No. I love it” corrected Peter, his eyes turning almost cartoonish as he looked at him. How could someone fuck up so bad and come back so strong? It was a mystery. “Maybe I’m not a big fan of the whole restaurant looking at us like we’re desperately calling for attention, but I think you did really well”.

Tony looked like a five-year-old that had just been told they were going to Disneyland.

“I actually brought you here because I want to ask you something”.

_Oh, no._

Peter hated questions.

Specially if they came from Tony because it could be really, anything. Something that had nothing to do with what they were living, like asking him if he was a fan of organic chemistry, or literally something among the lines of having babies.

“What is it? Yes, I want to be your boyfriend again, but-”

“No, Peter, listen”

“I don’t have AIDS either, I swear, I took a-”

“Peter, no, for fuck's sake, _listen_ ”

“I’m not pregnant either, and well, you knew that but-”

“Peter!” Tony screamed, too high maybe, because there were people staring now. “Do you want to dance?”

Was this a joke?

“O-Okay?” he said, as he watched Tony stand up and take him by the hand, guiding him quickly to the dancefloor. The song suddenly changed into a romantic one, and the timing was so perfect that for a second Peter thought it was planned out.

When Tony pulled Peter in and held him close, moving with him in sink with the music, Peter couldn’t keep it inside of him any longer.

“Did you want to ask me to dance with you?”

He was cut off by a kiss, a surprisingly slow-motion kiss, tender. Not very Tony like.

“No” he answered as he pulled away, his touch almost pleading.

It was now o never.

The disco ball turned off and some white light from the ceiling illuminated them. Only them, and the music stopped, leaving everyone in the dark and quiet. Peter’s heart was pounding in his ears. Was this a movie? A book? A joke? What was going on? Everyone had quieted down as if they had been trained to do so.

“Tony?” asked Peter again.

Slowly but sure, Tony got down to the floor, kneeling in only one knee, eyes always on Peter.

He got this.

_No, he didn’t._

No, he _did._

A waiter that seemed extremely off-putting stepped into the light and handed Tony a small box, which had the letter ‘P’ carved into it with the same hand-written form as the chocolate boxes.

Tony opened the box and inside there was a shiny ring, small yet very luxury, and Peter physically felt his heart leave his ribcage and appear in his throat.

“I know I am too much, or not enough… but, marry me?”

Peter thought he was going to die right there. Everyone, and I mean, _everyone_ was looking at them.

“Holy shit” he let out, and Tony didn’t really know what to make of that.

“Not exactly the answer I was expecting, but-”

“Yes” interrupted Peter with a very shaky breath, his eyes still wide and blown away, his lungs refusing to let any air in.

“Yes?”

_“Yes”_ he repeated excited, happier than he had ever imagined.

And Peter hugged Tony, their whole surroundings applauding, some laughter and a few tears.

Peter let himself fall on top of Tony and then pulled away, his lips connecting immediately with his fiancé, the actual love of his life. The only person he would give absolutely _everything_ for.

“I love you” whispered one of them, but I’m not telling you which one.

“I know” whispered the other.

And this story doesn’t go further than that but take my word for it. They had the biggest and most expensive wedding one can imagine, and they also had something one can’t imagine.

A very, very happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> always yours, @starkerdays

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written the others chapters yet, so you can always come yell at me or propose to me your ideas in my tumblr @starkerdays  
> Stay tuned!


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